Growing Together
by claryfraying
Summary: Katniss is alone in District Twelve for a year when suddenly everything changes. Peeta Mellark comes back, put together with a few pieces missing. Katniss is the only one that can put him back together. Will she take a leap of faith and admit to her love, or deny herself the happiness that is being with her boy with the bread? Post- Mockingjay. Rated M for future Everlark goodness.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: In the Back of My Mind

**A/N: Hello my lovely readers! This is my second fan fic. You might know me from "A Day at the Bakery." This one just kind of came to me after I was state testing and wasn't allowed to read. ._. So, please read and review, favorite. You know the drill. Enjoy!**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games**_

Katniss POV

I never really had the time to think about my future. To think about what I would do with myself. I'm 17 years old and have already been on the brink of starvation, survived two Hunger Games, been the face of a rebellion against a nation, shot a president, and supposedly been married and pregnant. I don't even know what to call myself anymore-The Girl on Fire, The Mockingjay, just one half of the "star- crossed lovers" charade. Nothing seems to fit anymore. Nothing seems right. When anyone calls me anything. Like it's unnatural. I shed the skin of my former self and have now become a shell; an empty person who lives and breathes but doesn't exactly function. I can't stand being alone anymore. The quiet is too damn loud.

Peeta POV

It feels like I'm reliving my childhood all over again. I'm watching her from afar yet again, holding on to a shred of hope, yet again. The only thing I can give her, yet again, is some bread. Me and my stupid bread. I hope she knows that I have never stopped loving her; even when my mind was hijacked and my memories were twisted and distorted, it was still there, in the back of my mind. Katniss. I wonder if she knows that I'm even back from the Capitol.

**-xxx-**

Katniss POV

Greasy Sae has been coming everyday to make sure that I'm still alive and eating and to give me the latest town gossip. I normally tune her due to the fact that I just don't care. But today, she surprises me.

"Have you gone to see Peeta yet, Katniss? I'm sure he's dying to see you." I almost choke on my coffee.

"W-what?" I stutter, trying to form a coherent sentence. Greasy Sae turns to look at me, a surprised expression on her face.

"Peeta. He's back from the Capitol. You didn't think this bread has been coming from just anywhere, have you?" she explains while motioning to the bread on the kitchen counter. I should have realized that bread doesn't just appear magically in kitchens every morning. That's always been his gift, hasn't it? Before I can register that Greasy Sae is about to say something, I push myself out of my seat and nearly run out of my house.

Peeta POV

There's still snow on the ground from the storm last night. It doesn't look like I will be making my normal bread deliveries today. I'm just about to move away from my window when I see a dark figure moving quickly my way. Towards my house. I press my dace up against the glass to try and get a better looks and freeze when I see the face. It's Katniss. With just a t-shirt and black slacks on. Not even a jacket or shoes. What is she _doing_? I shake my head and try to get a grasp on reality.

I don't even have time for that. Katniss comes barging through my front door and slams me against the wall. Uh-oh.

**Hey, thanks for reading the first chapter! Please tell me what you think and such, it would be great! I just want to make it better for you guys. :D Next chapter will be up soon. **


	2. The Confrontation

Chapter 2: The Confrontation

**A/N: *creeps slowly* I'm **_**really **_**sorry I haven't updated in like, almost a year. But I'm back out of hiding and ready to write! Thanks to all of you that have kept me on your favorite and update lists! Without further ado, here is Chapter 2!**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**_

Katniss POV

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" The words are out of my mouth before I have time to stop them, along with the forearm of my right arm shoved up against Peeta's throat, my left hand against the wall. My breathing is shaky from walking over here in the snow, but mostly from the realization that Peeta didn't tell me that he was back. That all he did was just leave bread with Sae to give to me. _How dare he?_ I realize that there is a weird look in Peeta's when I realize that my actions might have set him into a flashback. I back away abruptly, dropping my arms and twisting my fingers together in front of myself nervously, waiting for Peeta.

After a few beats I hear Peeta sigh, and out of the corner of my eye I can tell that he's running a shaky hand through his unruly blond curls. "Katniss, I…I didn't know if you wanted to see me. Or even to say anything to me for that matter. How was I supposed to know?" I hear him give another exasperated sigh and I peek up at him from under my eyelashes. I immediately feel guilt from attacking him the way I did. I should have been more careful. It wasn't his fault that I always acted like I didn't care; no matter how hard I try not to.

My attention is now intensely focused on flakes of snow melting on my braid. The burnt ends of my hair still make me upset, that I can't even braid my hair the way I want. My identity was burned off of me; from my skin, my hair, my friends, my family, my _life_. I let my braid fall from my fingers before scouring enough courage to look Peeta in the eye.

My voice is soft when I speak. "Just, why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to find out from all people, Sae! Not you. And don't try to pity me with leaving bread with her every day for me. I am not a charity case. I am not yours to take care of. So don't you dare think you can get away with this and everything will go back to normal again because it won't. And I don't need you or your stupid bread!" I realize by the end that my voice has been rising in pitch in volume, and the look on Peeta's face is so surprised that it's almost laughable. And I almost do laugh; at the state I'm in, I wouldn't put it past myself. I storm out of Peeta's house with a fury I have not possessed in months.

_How can just one small act make me speak the most I have in months? Why does Peeta continually have this effect on me? _I ask myself as I trudge through the snow, leaving angry footprint behind me. When I reach home I swipe my hand across the kitchen table furiously, letting the basket of bread that Sae left this morning tumble to the floor. I storm up to my room as tears start to cloud my vision and go to the only place I know that's safe. Inside my closet I close the door behind me and snuggle against the feel of warm winter jackets that Cinna has made me for the Victory Tour. The smell of them is comforting and brings me back to times before everything was shot to hell. I nuzzle my tear streaked face into one of the softer ones before my foot catches on something metallic, screeching across the closet floor:

My Mockingjay pin.

It's been two weeks since I've seen Peeta. The bread has stopped coming, but I think that's mostly on Sae's part. Last week she was finally able to get me out of the closet and function again.

_It has been two days since my confrontation with Peeta and my closet is the only place I want to be. Soon enough though, I hear the slow steps of Sae trudging into my room as she knocks on my closet door. "Come on girl, up ya go. Time to face the day." Instead of answering her, I simply try to crawl my way further into the closet, fearing the moment when she finally opens the door and the sunlight streaks my face. I hear Sae set down a tray on the ground, grunting with the effort. "Eat, girl. Come on now. Ain't no better time than the present."_

_I look up at her and I hate the pity that I see in her eyes. I move slightly out of the closet, reaching for the glass of water I see on the try. I am pretty thirsty from all of the crying. "If I eat, will you leave me alone?" I say with a bit of venom in my voice. _

"_Cross my heart, girl," she says. A sigh escapes her lips as she shakes her head. "I just hate to see you an' that boy apart. It ain't doing either good to notta be together." I look up at her with wide eyes, stunned that she would say something about Peeta. Doesn't she know that we're better off apart? That _he's_ better off without me in his life to ruin everything?_

"_He's better off without me," I grumble. I hear Sae cackle to herself, shaking her head. "If there's one thing I do know girl, it's love. And I've seen that boy lookin' at ya, and there ain't no doubt in my mind that he loves ya. Even an old maid like me knows a little something about love." And without Sae leaves me alone to eat in my misery._

Sae's words have echoed in my mind these past two weeks. "_There's ain't no doubt in my mind that he loves ya." _I shake my head to rid myself of the nagging feelings. I peer out my window and see that the lights are off in Peeta's second story bedroom, so he must be gone or down in his kitchen, baking.

I decide to take my chances with the latter, and get up out of my comfy chair next to window. I need to face my demons, which mostly involve hurting Peeta, and bringing anything to mind that has happened in the past year. I don't get much relief.

I wrap knitted sweater tighter around my shoulders, cuddling into the warmth and familiarity of it. It was my favorite one to wear during the Victory Tour after Peeta and I had a full day of confronting the families and districts of children that we killed. It's a dark, earthy green made by Cinna to be a part of my "original" clothing designs I used as a front for my talent for the tour. I cuddled many nights next to Peeta in it. I breathe in slightly on the shoulder – it still smells faintly of him.

I take a sharp intake of breathe as I realize that I have already crossed over into Peeta's front yard. I can hear soft bangs coming and a soft, off- pitch whistle coming from within his house, confirming my suspicions about his whereabouts.

I finally reach his door and take a deep breath, centering myself. I had called Dr. Aurelius last week to ask him on how to approach this situation, and he was more than happy to help – a little _too_ enthusiastic for my taste. I think he was just excited that I was finally making some sort of progress in my recovery, honestly. But I'm not really. This isn't for me, this is to help Peeta.

My eyes close on their own accord and I bring my closed hand up to the door, rapping on the wood softly. _Rap, rap, rap._ I hear Peeta's whistling stop abruptly, and the _"thump!"_ of a bowl landing on the counter in surprise to the intrusion.

After a brief pause I hear the padding of feet, every other step a heavier sounding thud. I cringe internally. _Just another thing I'm responsible for_ I think to myself.

The lock turns and a creek of the door follows it, right before a head of unruly blond curls come into view. The look on Peeta's face when he opens the door is almost comical enough to make me laugh.

"K-_Katniss_?" Peeta asks, astounded. I peek up slightly from under my lashes, knowing now that there is no going back – I was the one that came to talk, not him.

"Peeta, I – I'm," I take another deep breath like Dr. Aurelius told to me, and conjure up the courage to look Peeta in the eyes, which is nearly impossible. I'm already getting lost in them.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Is all I manage to get out before I break eye contact, the blue of sincerity in them slowly breaking me down.

I hear Peeta let out a breath that he was obviously holding in before he speaks. "Katniss…thank you. I'm just, glad you're here. I – I've missed you."

A prominent blush spreads across my cheekbones at Peeta's comment. I can tell he is thinking about what he said as well – he's rubbing the back of his neck; it makes his curls, which are too long now, brush over his eyebrows and hang in front of his eyes. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip until I draw blood to distract myself from the nagging sensation to brush the stray hair away with my fingers.

Instead, of responding the same sentiment, which is the absolute truth, I stick my foot in my mouth. "You shouldn't. I'm no good for you, Peeta," I say meagerly. But I know that even if it hurts him now, in this very moment, that it is for the better in the long run. For Peeta's life, I am willing to sacrifice my happiness- although I'm not sure just what exactly that is quite yet.

Peeta takes a step forward, hesitating a moment before bring a hand up to rest on my sweater- clad shoulder, his thumb and forefinger grasping a little at the fabric. I can't tell if he remember this sweater or not from those many nights together.

"I don't care. Don't you think I should be the judge of what's good and not good for me? I didn't come back to Twelve for the scenery, Katniss. I came back for you. For _you._ Why can't you understand that? Is this why you've been avoiding me?" Peeta's voice is soft at the end of his speech, his feet having took another step closer, too close for me to be able to concentrate.

I can now clearly see streaks of flour of his cheekbones, and one under his jaw. There's a small bit of frosting dried to the forearm that is holding me in place. I can even smell him better now. He still smells like freshly baked bread and the first day of Spring all put together, but it's manly. At least the Capitol didn't steal that away from him.

The blue of his eyes still match the sky, but they've lost some of their luster – not all of the light is in them anymore. I think it went away with the memories.

I shake my head again, stepping back out of Peeta's gentle grasp. He lets his loose hold fall easily, and he steps back as well.

"I can't do this, Peeta. What about what I want? I can't do that myself. I – " _I can't let myself love you, _I end up saying in my mind, surprising even myself, even though there is only me to surprise. A flush of relief runs through my body when I realize that I in fact did not say those words out loud.

Peeta clears his through after an uncomfortably long pause, causing me to look back up into his eyes again as he spoke, his voice soft, meager, completely unlike the Peeta I'm so used to. "Can we at least be friends?" he asks, biting his lip a little. I've learned over time that Peeta can talk to a room full of strangers, proclaim his love for a girl be barely knows to an entire nation on national television, but he always is nervous around me, and I just can't help but think that it's kind of…cute.

I look at him, bring up a hand to wipe some of the collecting snow off of my bangs, and brush back some loose strands of hair as well. A smile tugs at my lips as I say, "I can we can work something out."

**A/N: Whew! That was the longest chapter that I have ever written. Kind of proud of it, not going to lie. I really hope you all like this chapter. Please let me know! Leave a review and I will make sure to get to it. Updates will be frequent now, I promise. **

***I am also looking for a beta, so please let me know if you would like to!***

**Until next time, read on, dears! **_  
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	3. The Start of Something New

Chapter 3: The Start of Something New

**A/N: Hello! Thank you for all of the lovely reviews left from the next chapter. I hope y'all like fluff, because I wrote a lot of it. I think there needs to be some Everlark moments in here for these two before we get back to some more angst. *Still looking for a beta. PM if you're interested!***

* * *

****Katniss POV

It's been a month since Peeta and I have decided to become friends. All I can say is that it has been...awkward for me. The knowledge that what Peeta feels for me runs deeper than friendship is unnerving quite a bit, and sometimes I don't know if my actions or words cross the line. We don't say much - mostly we just sit n the swing on the back porch of Peeta's house, and he sketches the scenery of the day while I read, or just simply watch him.

Not all days are easily, of course. We spend a lot apart, when the nightmares get to horrific for either of us, and Peeta's drawings aren't of people anymore, but of the arenas and mutts, and me, which I found out about just two weeks ago.

_I wander into Peeta's studio on a whim and happen to find many canvases turned around, facing the wall in the corner of the room. I turn them around, curious as to what Peeta might be hiding from me. Where are friends now, right? I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand as I immediately feel hot tears building up behind my eyes at the sight of the star of the paintings. They're all of me in various forms of muttations and demons. I hear Peeta's heavy footsteps, so I scramble to put them back the way I found them. In my state, I end up toppling over even more of the canvases and don't have time to put them all back before I hear Peeta sighing. I look up, guilty, with tears streaking my face as Peeta's is contorted with sadness. He's rubbing his chin with his hand nervously, the muscles in his arm straining against his shirt from the action._

_"You weren't supposed to see those, Katniss. What are you doing in here?" He asks, and I can tell that he is slightly upset. I know I've hit a nerve uncovering these, that they weren't meant for my eyes, but I can't stop the words from flowing out of my mouth._

_"Is this what you really think of me?" I ask meagerly._

_I immediately feel even _more_ guilty when I see the hurt look on Peeta's face, red flushing from his neck to his ears. "No," he says fiercely. "At least not when I'm me. When I'm...Capitol me, yes, I do. But I know it's not real. That's why I paint it Katniss, so I know it's not real. You being here everyday helps me remember some of what used to be. But that's how I see you in my dreams. That's what I see. You are my nightmares and my dreams all at once, Katniss."_

_I stare at him in shock. It's a lot to process, and I have never been good at words. I am the fault of everything Peeta has gone through, and him admitting it himself, although indirectly, hurts even more than I would ever admit to him. I wipe my nose on my sleeve and bolt out of the room before he can say anymore to me that would make me second- guess our so called "friendship."_

We never really discussed what happened that day. It took almost a week for us to come around again. He showed up at my door that Saturday with a basket full of freshly baked cheese buns, their warm aroma mixing with the cold air, the heat sending swirls of steam as well.

"Do you want to go for a walk, maybe?" Peeta says, a small, shy smile on his lips. This is how we make up now. With baked goods and time spent with one another. I readily agreed, stealing one of the cheese buns off the top, wrapping my coat around my body tighter as I stepped out into the frigid morning air.

* * *

Today, I am at Peeta's yet again, but it's too cold today to sit outside on the porch. We are cooped up today, and we both sit on his couch, conversing quietly about anything and everything except our three biggest topics we try to avoid: our families, the Games, and the Rebellion. As we talk, I am trying to rebraid my hair, but to no avail. The ends are still jagged and uneven, falling out at various spots down my braid, leaving it uneven and constantly getting in my face. I keep growing more and more frustrated every time I try, and by the fifth time I notice Peeta trying to hold back at grin.

"What's so funny?" I snap, scowling at him.

He tries to hide his smile more, but now it's even more apparent. "Oh, nothing. It's just that, well, you keep missing a few pieces."

My scowl deepens as I rip out my hair tie yet again. "You think I don't know that? It's all burned off. I can't do anything with it anymore!" Exasperated, I throw my hands up in the air, letting small strands of hair fall in my face again. Peeta bursts into full blown laughter as I blow my bangs out of my face, huffing as I cross my arms on my chest.

He bites his hip, containing himself. Although it is at my dignity, it _is _nice to see Peeta laugh. It's refreshing, and for some strange reason, it makes my heart flutter. I quickly dismiss the thought, crossing my legs Indian style on the couch.

"Why don't you let me try?" he asks.

I raise my eyebrows, scrutinizing him. "You really think you can braid hair, Peeta? It's not as easy as it looks." As much as I want to be upset that he is enjoying himself at my expense, I can't help but feel almost...carefree in the moment, not having to worry about anything. It's just me and Peeta, and in this moment, and we are living. And it feels beautiful.

He shrugs, a big grin plastered on his face. "I think I could. How about this: if I don't succeed to Katniss Everdeen's standards of braiding, I will personally show you how to make cheese buns. Deal?"

Now he's got me smiling too. Damn him.

I nod, turning around on the couch so my back is facing him, putting my hand behind me to pass him the hair tie. "You got yourself a deal, Mellark. But I'm only doing this because I want free cheese buns," I say, a smile in my voice.

He chuckles again, and I can't help but feel a small spark as our fingers brush when he takes the hair tie from me. _Doesn't he notice that, too?_

"Since when have I ever made you pay for cheese buns. At this point you owe me your whole house. You practically inhale those things."

I huff, pouting a bit as I feel his hands tentatively run through the loose strands running down my back, sending a chill down my spine. "Maybe you shouldn't offer me so many, then. I think you're just trying to make me fat," I say, my voice a little breathless as his fingers work through my hair.

Peeta doesn't respond, simply scoots closer to me on the couch, his outer leg, the one with the prosthetic, moving so that the foot is on the floor, the other leg folded between his body and mine. I seem to lean back more into him as he continues his ministrations. I can feel my breathing picking up slightly, and I wish it would just go away. I don't need this. I _can't _feel this way for Peeta. I don't deserve him. And we promised friends, and that's all. And I know that's unfair to him because of what he feels for me. I will never understand why me. Peeta could have chosen any other girl in the District to fall in love with, but he chose the Seam girl with two braids and one parent, and I will never know why.

I can feel Peeta start to gather the smaller strands from the more front of my head, bringing them back into a low ponytail. I already know that he is going to lose. Peeta might have talented hands, but that only works when he has a paintbrush or a pencil in them. I'll give him points for trying, but this is going nowhere.

And then it begins.

For some reason, Peeta starts to slowly massage my scalp with his calloused fingers. Oh. _Oh. _I can already feel the soft rubbing releasing the tension in my bodythat I didn't even know I had. I let out a soft moan, and blush as soon as I realize that I let the sound escape my mouth. I really, _really _hope Peeta didn't hear it. He moves my hair off over to my right shoulder, and his fingers move down to the base of my skull, working slowly to my neck. I drop my head as soon as he does, letting him have better access. I don't really know if friends do this or not, but as this point I don't really care. I hear Peeta more closer to me, the couch creaking in protest under his weight. I suddenly feel his breath fan across the back of my neck, making my hair stand on end there. His ministrations have slowed significantly, and my breathing has become quicker. All too soon I feel Peeta's warm lips touch my neck in a slow kiss. I immediately freeze. Peeta doesn't notice and plants another one right next to it as he breathes, "Oh, Katniss..."

I know that is _definitely not _what friends do.

I jump up from my position on the couch and hurriedly put my coat and boots back on. I mumble a quick goodbye as I bolt out the door in a fuss, not waiting to hear anymore of what Peeta has to say.

* * *

I wake the next day feeling refreshed, despite the unsettling event between Peeta and I yesterday. As I get dressed to go over and somewhat apologize, I realize the reason: I had no nightmares. Did that have to do with Peeta? I'm not sure.

I make the quick walk over to Peeta's house, not bothering to knock on the door. As I enter, I am not prepared for the scene that lies in front of me.

Peeta is standing in front of the counter in the kitchen with multiple bowls, ingredients, and trays set out in front of him. He is whistling an old District song off- key as he works. I clear my throat, making him jump a little bit, bringing a smile to my face. I thank my huntress abilities for being able to scare Peeta a little bit.

"Katniss! Hey, I didn't hear you come in."

I motion to everything on the counter as I approach, taking off my heavy jacket and setting on the coat rack next to the door. "What's all of this for? You don't usually bake during this time of day."

I see him rub the back of his neck, a tell- tale sign that he is either nervous or uncomfortable, or both. "About that. This is kind of a two part thing. I uh, I wanted to say that I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. I know that we agreed on friends and I know that I crossed some kind of-"

I cut him off my raising my hand and shaking my head. I'm already blushing just thinking about it, and it's not even nine in the morning. "Peeta, please let's just drop it. It's okay. Just...let's not have that happen again, okay?" He nods his head in agreement. I walk over to the counter, resting my arms on the wood surface. I cock my head and look back up to his face. I can't help but notice that his eyes are especially bluer today. Did he have a good sleep, too? "Anyway, you said this was a two part thing. Besides the apology that isn't needed, what's the second part. You got my curious, Mellark," I say with a grin, popping a grape into my mouth from a bowl of them sitting in the middle of the counter.

Peeta grins back, picking up an apron I didn't see before that matches his, and looks at me mischievously. "I lost the bet. So now you get to learn how to make cheese buns."

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**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I sure had fun writing it! Much love :) Reviews are welcomed! They are the spark to my fire of words. That didn't make sense, but you get the gist. See you all soon with another update!**


	4. Confusion

**A/N: Hey all! Sorry I was MIA last week. I had a big theatre festival last weekend and I came down with a flu, and am now presently working my way through a horrible cold. But alas, no excuses. This is one more chapter of fluff for our little love birds before the angst begins. Sorry, but it needs to happen!**

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Katniss POV

I can Peeta having to hold back a chuckle at the incredulous look that is probably on my face. I close my mouth as I watch Peeta take a step closer, a grin ebbing on the corners of his lips as he reaches his arm out, resting his hand on my forearm and giving it a soft squeeze. It's hard to deny the jolt of electricity I feel from his touch that shoots up my viens and makes my pulse quicken and my mouth go dry.

"I didn't think you would actually take that seriously," I breathe, still a little startled.

The smile doesn't dissipate from Peeta's mouth as he moves closer, bringing up his free hand to tuck a loose stand of hair behind my ear, the thumb of his other hand rubbing soothing circles into my arm.

"Of course I would, Katniss. A deal's a deal. I wouldn't lie to you, now would I?" he retorts. I can hear the blatant honesty in his voice and I can't help but smile back – his breathtaking grin has always been contagious.

"No, I guess not. I wouldn't want you to break your promise," I say.

I now notice that Peeta's face is closer than it was before, and my eyes immediately make a beeline for his lips. He runs his tongue along the bottom one, wetting the chapped skin, and I bite my own in response. _Why must this boy – no, man – be so damn attractive?_

"No, I guess not," he echoes my words as my own face leans closer to his. I can feel our breaths mingling, smell the scent of flour and sugar on his skin, see the light blond stubble that is scattered along his jaw line.

He moves closer and closes his eyes, but I can't let him know how desperately I want the feel of his lips against mine, how he makes my pulse beat erratically, and my palms sweat, my head reeling just from the scent of him. It isn't right. I don't deserve him.

I pull away from his embrace, realizing with flushed cheeks that I have somehow tangled my arms around his middle.

"Uh, maybe you should show me now?" I breathe, my voice uncharacteristically high. I don't do girly, I don't do flirting. Is this flirting?

No, of course not. This is just Peeta and me.

Peeta coughs uncomfortably and puts his empty arms down at his sides, his posture looking slightly defeated. I can't help but smile slightly at the fact that he light in his eyes that I saw when I first walked in this morning is still there.

"Yeah, sure, Katniss. Whatever you want. So, cheesebuns," Peeta says, rubbing his hands together. He nods with his head at the forgotten apron on the counter. "You might want to put that on. It's going to get a little dirty."

Almost at the exactly same time, Peeta and I both blush crimson, and I hide my face in my once I see his mouth hanging open, for once no words to ease the situation. I sulk over to counter and put the apron on. I look down and see that it hands almost to my knees, and the top bib part barely covers the top part of my chest.

Peeta mumbles something under his breath that almost sounds like, "Get it together, Mellark," when he shakes his head and walks over to me.

"May I?" he asks quietly, motioning to the ties of the apron. I nod, sweeping my braid off and over my right shoulder, bending my head down. I am brought back to memories of what transpired between us last night and an involuntary shiver runs down my spine. I feel Peeta's calloused fingers touch the tie on the back of my neck, and hear rather than see the shifting of fabric as the apron gets pulled up to cover more of my chest. He ties it off, then slides his hands down my back slowly to the tie around my waist. I hear him let out a sigh as he tugs on the tie, pulling me slightly closer to him. His thumbs brush slightly against my butt and I freeze slightly, but not as much as before. In some ways I revel in the little touches that happen between Peeta and I, and then instantly regret them, scolding myself for enjoying it.

"All done," he whispers against the shell of my ear.

"T-thank you," is all that I manage to stammer through my lips as he moves away, yet again motioning with his hands to lead me to stand in front of the counter. I shake my head, trying to clear the inappropriate thoughts from my head. _Is this what all the girls were talking about when they went to the slag heap? Is this what my mother constantly referred to girls being? 'Hormonal teenagers?' _Because if so, I am not going to be able to sort my feeling out for Peeta as easily as I thought I would be able to be.

Peeta stands a solid foot behind me as I stand behind his kitchen counter. "Now, cheese buns are pretty easy to make, despite the hype that they have concocted. To make this easier, I've already measured out the ingredients for us. Just pick up the cup over there. It has the flour in it. You're just going to pour it into the bowl in front of you with the yeast and water. Just be careful not to spill. Baking is picky about measurements."

I giggly slightly as Peeta ramble on. It's cute, how invested he is in his work, and how dedicated he is to it. I pick up the cup that holds the flour and dump it in unceremoniously into the bigger bowl of ingredients. "Like that?" I ask.

"Just like that, Katniss," he says, his voice carrying something in it that I cannot pin to an emotion I've heard before. I shake it off and set the cup down, putting my hands on the counter.

"What's next?" I ask.

Peeta comes in from behind me and pulls the bowl closer to me. "Now you have to mix it with your hands, and then you have to knead it."

"Okay…" I say warily, not sure if I can accomplish this task well. I really want to show Peeta that I can do more than hunt and devour all of his bakery goodies. I can be his friend a part of his life too, maybe even help when he finally starts up his bakery again.

He chuckles from behind me. "You'll do fine. Just stick your hands in there and start molding them together. Like mud almost."

I do as he says and stick my hands in the bowl, feeling the gooey dough slip in my fingers.

"It's squishy," I say, a lithe laughter in my voice. My comment resonates with Peeta, and I hear a small chuckle escape his lips.

"Yes, it is, but it's fun. I think you're good. Take the bowl and dump it all out onto the counter and start kneading."

I nod and dump the contents of the bowl onto the already floured counter, sending a small cloud of the stuff into the air and settling on my apron, arms and hair.

Peeta chuckles again as I feel him step closer, his breath barely touching the skin on the back of my neck. "Um, you have some flour in your hair," he laughs.

"Shut up, I know," I growl as I swat away at my bangs.

He steps closer, and I can feel heart radiating off of him now. "You have to work it slowly, then all at once. Be careful," he says quietly.

I nod yet again, unable to form a coherent sentence with him this close and behind slamming my palms into the dough hastily for a few moments. I hear Peeta sigh and he steps closer again, and his chest is now flush with my back. I do not flinch this time, now used to the contact. I do not know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

"Slowly, Katniss. Gently," he breathes, and his voice has taken on a huskier quality that for some reason makes me want to clench my thighs together. He rest his chin on my shoulder, slowly moving his hands down my arms, causing goosebumps to break out behind the heated trail he leaves on my skin. His rough hands now rest on top of mine, and he laces our finger together in such a way that we are able to knead the dough together. My senses are heightened now at the proximity that Peeta and I are allocating. My breathing is coming in shaky pulls as my insides smolder. Again I have the strange urge to rub my thighs together, to quell the heat that is making me almost dizzy.

Our motions are languid, slow and almost stop. I lull my head back against his shoulder, too content to care that his isn't right, that I don't deserve to indulge in pleasure such as being close to Peeta, being able to touch him, be near him.

I realize now that our hands have stopped, and that Peeta's breathing matching my rapid one. He has managed to move closer to me, his thighs to his chest flush with the back of me. The whole kitchen is quiet. The only sound I can hear is that of our breathing and my blood pounding in my ears. I can feel my resolve breaking slowly, the armor I have put up the past couple of weeks cracking under the sensation that is simply Peeta.

This time when I feel him place a kiss on the back of my neck, I don't stop him.

I lull my head down, letting my chin rest comfortably as he continues pressing warm, languid kisses on the heated skin on the back of neck, working slowly to the skin behind my ear. I let out a sigh of contentment. Damn my rules, damn being fair, and damn him for breaking down my resolve.

I feel rather than hear Peeta whisper my name into my skin as he continues his kisses, down my jaw and the other side of my neck. He lets my hands untangle from our grasp as he moves his own slowly up the sides of my body, running his big hands up and down my sides in a soothing matter. His thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts and I let out a throaty moan that I did not expect to escape. It was part surprise, part pleasure.

And I want him to do it again.

At the sound that I make from his action, Peeta instantly slides his hands down to grasp my waist to whirl my around in his arms, pressing me against the counter, the previous job at hand forgotten as his lips crash into mine for the first time since that night in the second arena. My arms immediately wrap around his neck, my finger tangling in the golden curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to me still. Peeta lets out a low groan from the back of his throat and pushes against me more, his lips rougher, deepening the kiss. I meet him eagerly, pulling at his hair.

He surprises me and moving his hands down from my waist to the back of my thighs, lifting me up and placing me on the counter unceremoniously. I instantly wrap my legs around his waist pulling him closer. More. I need more.

Suddenly I feel Peeta's tongue glide across my lower lip. It resonates with the thrumming between my thighs that I am choosing to ignore. All I know now is that the ember inside me earlier is now a full- blown inferno, raging through my veins and making my pulse so loud I can hear it in my ears. Does Peeta feel this way, too?

I can't think straight, all of my thoughts are muddled. All I want is him, and his lips on mine, his body as close to me as possible. I let my hands wander down the front of his shirt and under the hem slightly, aching to feel the heat of his skin beneath my fingers. When my hands finally make purchase I feel Peeta groan inwardly, my name falling off of his lips and across mine, where my tongue meets his languidly. Our mouths are fierce and hot and ravishing, and I can't tell where I stop and he begins. I tug him closer to me if possible by the edge of his shirt, running my hands over his chiseled chest under his shirt, trying to commit to memory every part of him. For all I know this is the last time that I will get to be this way with him.

All of the sudden I feel something press against me, and I immediately press back. I am too stunned to realize when it happens again that it is _Peeta_, and…something attached to him that wasn't there earlier.

I push my hands against his chest and pull away. "Peeta, we...we're friends," I say breathlessly, taking a gulp of air to calm my breathing a rapid heartbeat.

I see the look of confusion of Peeta's face before he glances down to see what I am trying to avoid, and an immediate flush of crimson graces his cheeks. A look of dread is in his blue eyes, which have darken from our activities, as he reaches out for me.

"Oh, Katniss, I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry, I…" for the second time today Peeta is speechless, and for some reason, this scares me.

I yank the apron off of my body, snagging it on my braid a few times in my haste before thowing it on the counter.

"I have to go. I just…" I don't manage to complete my sentence as tears fill my eyes and the gravity of what just transpired between us settles in on my heart.

I manage to look over my shoulder one last time before I exit through the door, and I instantly regret the decision. The look on Peeta's face is pure devastation. I knew that being friends, or in a relationship, would just only complicate things which is exactly what just happened. I'm not good for him. I always manage to somehow get him hurt.

I grab my coat from the rack and bolt through the door into the snow, the cold biting at my face as the tears rush down my cheeks, my whole body feeling empty. I can never let that happen with Peeta ever again.

* * *

**A/N: Sooo, tell me what you think! Notice that the rating for this story has changed to M for obvious reasons. Do you like the smut fluff? I can't tell if I'm good at it or not and would love some feedback on it. Thank you to all who have favorited and are following this story. It makes my heart happy to see that someone likes my writing. Up next we are getting into some angsty waters. Thanks for reading!**

**~P**


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